Our drive up the Atlantic coast was pretty quiet this
morning. Many of us took advantage to get a few extra minutes of
sleep as we drove along the coast and through the marshes of northern
Vendée.

As we arrived, the Atlantic fogs still hung tenaciously over the
island. Our guide, Anne-Marie, suggested that we take a walk through
the Woods of La Chaise, one of the most beautiful areas of this part of
France. As we approach the forest, we view the Beach of the Ladies,
a site where legend says Celtic druidesses of prehistory gathered to work
their magic.

The famous Impressionist painter Renoir came to these
coasts a century ago to work his own sort of magic. Hidden in the
mist to the right is another painter who continues in the master's
tradition.

This island was settled many centuries ago and quickly
became a prime target of invasion both for its strategic position and for
its incredibly rich soil -- a soil fertilized by the sea weed that often
washed up on some these coasts. Originally wheat was the main
product here. The exposure to the sea breeze made the construction
of numerous windmills a natural extension. Wheat was thus turned to
flower almost on the spot. As the Renaissance came and the New World
began to export its own riches, it was discovered that the new and exotic
plant we call "potato" (and which is known in France as the
"apple of the earth") grew extremely well in this rich
soil. Today the potatoes of Noirmoutier are a delicacy sought after
in all of France.

Noirmoutier, whose name comes from an expression meaning
"Black Monastery", was dominated in the Middle Ages by the
Benedictines and Cistercian monks who came here from the mainland.
In addition to cultivating the soil, they also cultivated the sea, thus
creating salt marshes like those we visited earlier near Les Sables.

By far the most important of those monks was Saint
Philbert, who came here from a place we now call Normandy in the 700's in order to evangelize
this island. After a somewhat tumultuous luncheon, featuring the
famous potatoes of the island and a now infamous chef who was extremely
displeased with our own New World culinary inclinations, we prepare to
enter the church called Saint Philbert.

Soon after Saint Philbert had christianized this area the
monastery began to flourish. The good times were to be short-lived,
however. In the 8th and 9th centuries the Vikings from lands north
began marauding these and other areas along the coast. The Northman
or Norman would quickly settle the land now named after him --
Normandy. When these
pagans showed that they intended to settle this island for themselves, the
monks here took the precious relics (read bones) of Saint Philbert from
their resting place here and moved inland. As they crossed France,
they left parts of the relics in churches along their route. Now
there are villages and churches called Saint Philbert in a meandering line
running from to distant Burgundy.

Some of Saint Philbert's remains were eventually returned
to the church of his original burial. Here a few Vendéens observe
the reliquary that contains those remains.

To the right is a vertebra of Saint Philbert's spine.

The crypt containing the relics also holds Philbert's
original tomb.

Leaving the church of Saint Philbert, we stroll toward
the nearby castle of Noirmoutier. From the darkest Middle Ages, this
island has served the mainland as a point of strategic defense from
seafaring invaders. Of course, it was at times a prime landing area
for those same invaders. The castle has thus served primarily as a
military fortress or even a prison, functions it has filled well into the
20th century during both World Wars.

The donjon, or main towers, of the castle have kept their
essential form intact since the 12th century when the "modern"
fort we see today was first erected.

The early days of the castle date back much further, of
course. Here the Vendéens inspect the tombs of knight or monks
buried here in the Merovingian times that predated Charlemagne.

As the afternoon progresses, the fog lifts on the island
and we can almost glimpse the mainland from the highest towers of the
castle.

A few Vendéens celebrate their return to earth from the
heights of the donjon's towers.

At high tide some 60% of this island is below the level
of the sea. The famous dike here was built by one of the island's
most famous inhabitants, a man named Jacobsen who came here, not
surprisingly, from a country north of here called Holland!

Jacobsen did such a good job that we need no little Dutch boy's
thumb to follow him up. That was true even during the record
breaking tempests that struck here last December. Unfortunately
those storms did destroy one of the most impressive aspects of this
island's geography -- the famous passage of the "gois".
Unique in the world, this is a section of the sea that opens up twice a
day at low tide, this allowing foot or motor traffic on to the
island. In truth, the gois itself was not destroyed, but the road
laid across it and the "balizes" (towers designed as a refuge
for the unwary who are yearly caught in midcrossing by the waters that
rush in at rising tide) were severely damaged. Repairs are now
underway, but they are too late for our visit today.

The skyline in late afternoon is a bit different from
that hidden in the mists and fogs that awaited us on our arrival here
earlier today.